


A Lesson Learned

by SuperPsychoNutcase



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: By Plague, Eris is bored, F/M, Hecate has had it with Moldy Shorts, Men are panicking, Multi, Punishment, Women get hella sick, old magick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-11-27 04:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperPsychoNutcase/pseuds/SuperPsychoNutcase
Summary: There are numerous myths and stories that tell of mortals that thought themselves gods. Those tales were handed down from generation to generation to warn children of the wrath that should befall the hubris and misjudgement of humankind. Most children heed the cautionary tales.The rest are just too full of themselves, and it's about time the Gods smack them back into place.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Reading through history, it astounds me how women didn't just up and slaughter all the men or how we had enough women to continue the human race. I just wanted to create a world where hopefully men learn to better appreciate women and their role in society: keeping the race from dying out by making more humans.

Hecate: Goddess of witchcraft, magic, necromancy, night, ghosts, and the moon. Daughter to the Titans Perses and Asteria. Confidante to Persephone and Hades. Being the Goddess of magic, it is she that grants such a gift to those humans who hold great potential in their hearts and minds. 

And she was not happy.

The Maiden sat at her viewing pool, looking into the futures of a child born to the Meyer family. “Sweet girl. Creative, determined, and kind. Would be talented in Charms and Magical Creatures. She could grow into such a beautiful young lady and finally introduce the performing arts into the world of magic.”

In contrast, the Crone was not so optimistic for his future. “And she could very well be scorned and mocked back into the mundane world.”

“Always so cynical.” Maiden chided Crone. “Mother, what say y…?”

The Mother, usually nurturing and kind, was tense. She was peering into the world of man, her fingernails tapping repeatedly against the silver basin. “Look at them. Hundreds of their kind slaughtered like animals with the gift I gave them, and they celebrate. Disgusting worms!”

Crone’s wizened eyes gazed into the water and saw Lucius Malfoy throwing an opulent party, surrounded by men Marked by the troublesome upstart and his numerous supporters. Even after greasing so many palms to keep himself out of Azkaban, Malfoy’s family vault was still brimming with fortune. “Hmph. Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Arrogant little bastard, isn’t he? A waste of consideration.”

“Yet a Master of Arithmancy.” Maiden defended him, though halfheartedly. “He and Septima Vector had such a wonderful relationship while he was a student. If he had only listened to her advice…” 

Mother cracked her jaw in agitation. “But he didn’t. Instead, he blindly followed a mad man who thinks himself a god; declaring only those with magical heritage are worthy of the magic.”

Crone huffed in agreement. “Riddle has only given action to thoughts and beliefs long held by those uppity inbreds.”

“And since he has created those atrocities, he has returned and caused more harm. More damage. More deaths.” Maiden rubbed her young, flawless forehead in distress. “So many girls violated and murdered… it’s horrifying.” 

Mother waved her hand and the image in the water blurred until the creature in question appeared. He was ugly, gray and snake-like, smugly sitting upon a golden throne as if he belonged there. “This has gone on long enough. I am sick of this chess game between Riddle and Dumbledore.”

On her left, the Crone nodded while grinning sadistically. “Too long have my children ignored me.”

The Maiden, to the right of Mother, glared down into the sacred water at the wavering image. “Only I decide who is worthy of my gift and none has the right to question me.”  
Mother, staring at Tom Marvolo Riddle with cold rage that had made Gods quiver in fear, held out her arm as a perch for her trusted friend. “I think it’s time I teach my children a lesson in humility.”

“Pruedence,” Maiden addressed the pure white snow owl with fondness. “pay a visit to Eris, would you? I think she would love an opportunity to sow some strife.”

The owl nodded her head and took off into the sky on silent wings.

*****  


“Let me get this straight:” The Goddess of Discord looked at the three forms of her friend, Hecate, her black hair twisting about her head as if caught in the clutches of the restless tide. “You want to cull nearly half of your children to teach a few troublemakers who’s boss?”

Maiden fed Pruedence a well deserved mouse. “In summary, yes.”

Eris smiled, her orange eyes glowing with malicious glee. “Well, I’m in.”

Mother stroked the back of her black dog, Trivia, whose three heads and six ears kept watch for any eavesdroppers. Hecate didn’t want Zeus catching wind of this until it was too late. He was always sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “Excellent. I want to begin immediately.”

Maiden fed Prudence the last of the frogs. “An early holiday gift, if you will.”

“Yule is the time of giving.” Crone cackled darkly from her rocking chair, her hands working deftly on her knitting. 

Eris dipped her talon into the silver basin. “So let’s give them a gift that keeps on giving, shall we?” Dark greenish orange poison swirled in the water. The streams darted around the small pool before sinking into the image of Tom Marvolo Riddle, dressed in the finest silks. They watched as he patted Rodolphus LeStrange's’ arm leaving some of the dark poison behind. Rodolphus and Riddle then went their own ways, touching or brushing against the other guests and spreading the disease until everyone in the room carried it: from the oldest man to the youngest female.

Maiden scrunched her nose in disgust. “About time we did away with that Bellatrix. I rejected her of my gift and her family saw fit to grant it to her with the help of demons rather than accepting my judgement.”

“And look what it turned her into:” Mother sneered in distaste. “a mindless bitch with a sadistic streak.”

“Nothing but a disgrace that one.” Crone muttered furiously. 

Eris gave a savage smile. “She won’t be a problem much longer. None of them will. This sickness will spread and work quickly and efficiently. Far better than the last plague I started.”

Maiden tapped her silver basin with a tiny, manicured hand. “Now, let’s see which of my daughters deserves to survive.”

Mother bowed her head in assent. “Eris, would you like to stay? I would love your advice. A second opinion never hurts.”

Eris floated over to join the two figures at the bowl, her sinuous body rolling with natural ease and seduction. “I have nothing better to do anyway. Not since king hypocrite banished me from Olympius.”

The Goddesses grinned when Bellatrix Black, a rabid follower of the false god, turned her head and coughed into a dainty handkerchief.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione just wants to get through her sixth year without commiting mass homicide though Harry and Ron test her control on a daily basis. All her problems begin to look petty when a plague spreads across the world like a poison.

Hermione Granger, Brains of the Golden Trio and Gryffindor Princess, was settling into her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with no small amount of enthusiasm. How could she not when everything in her life was going so well? She is the top pick for Head Girl, she’s beating everyone out for best marks in all of her classes again, and her body had bloomed beautifully over the summer. Hermione had left her awkward and gangly teenage body behind for that of a young woman. Sure, her hair was still a little frizzy, but that’s the price of having natural curls gifted from her irish mother. Her skin, hardly prone to acne, was dewy and flawless, breasts plump and perky, and her form pleasantly curved. 

The only rain cloud over her pleasant year was her friends’ attitudes. 

Ronald Weasley she found most annoying. After his unfairly achieved win for Gryffindor’s Quidditch team, he and Lavender Brown had become attached at the mouth. Hermione had nothing against relationships or a little kiss in the halls, but practically dry humping one another in public is disgusting. Lavender had taken to shooting Hermione these looks of smug triumph and she was getting right sick of it. 

The other little storm cloud happened to be none other than Harry Potter himself and his newest obsession with Draco Malfoy. After having lost his godfather in a senseless battle that could have been avoided easily, she tried to sympathize with her friend and cut him some slack. It was getting harder and harder to forgive his outbursts when she’s been dealing with it for two months. That doesn’t even bring into account his prickly attitude and restless anger that always simmered beneath his skin, ready to rise at any given moment over the seemingly smallest of things. He once snapped at her for not helping him get a better grade in Transfiguration, claiming she was sabotaging his future as an Auror. Hermione had to hold her breath for ten seconds, biting her lip to keep from snarling back at him that he should study instead of stalking Draco, and gently told him that he turned down her offer to edit his homework. 

To make it worse, ever since Harry had found that old school book riddled with notes, he had risen as the best Potions student in her year. Professor Slughorn loved to praise him in front of the class, and each compliment was like acid on Hermione’s skin. It ate at her, figuratively of course, that Harry was so successful after five years of scrambling just to pass. In fact, he would never have gotten into the NEWTS Potion class if she hadn’t hounded him to study the last three months of fifth year. Whenever Hermione urged him to report the book, Harry would smugly retort that he was just using a book to improve his brewing techniques. Ron, that bastard, was quick to jump on board the bandwagon and declared Hermione was just jealous of Harry’s better grades. 

Hermione thought that argument outstandingly stupid as Harry had always done better in Defense Against Dark Arts than her and she had never thrown a fit over his marks. Hermione had no problem accepting when someone was better than her. The problem is that Harry is cheating. Potions had always been an interest for Hermione while Harry barely got by following instructions. Ever since he got that book, he had been surpassing everyone in class and preening under the attention that Slughorn gave him: all of it unearned!

So ensconced was she, and everyone else, in school drama and school work that no one really noticed or cared when the first girl dropped. 

Hermione was in the library, browsing the isles, when she overheard gossip from a “study group” consisting of Ravenclaw and Slytherin females. Tracey Davis, a halfblood, shared the news with a slightly harried tone. “One minute everything was fine, and then Pansy just fainted.”

Edgecomb, with bangs covering her boil scars, added her two cents. “She’s been coughing for the past few days. I heard that one of the Hufflepuffs saw her in the bathroom, coughing up blood!”

“Isn’t Narcissa Malfoy at St. Mungo’s for the same thing?” asked Lisa Turpin, a studious and reserved Ravenclaw. 

Cho Chang gasped dramatically. “Does that mean it’s contagious?!”

If there was some new sickness floating about, Hermione wanted none of it. She made a mental note to be more cautious and clean before going about her business. She had better things to worry about. 

But as time progressed, as did the disease. 

It started with only one or two girls a day. Then threes and fours. It wasn’t until Madam Hooch, the spirited flying instructor fell during class that the students began to take notice. Within a month, every last Slytherin girl had been moved to St. Mungo’s and half of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw females were gone. Gryffindor had only lost a third of their girls, all of them pure or halfbloods, but even that number began to rise as they reached mid-November. 

Morale took a nosedive along with seemingly all sense of civility. The male student population had become more aggressive, snapping at each other in the halls and posturing during class. There was a brief ray of happiness when the Daily Prophet, no longer plagued by Skeeter’s slander, sent out the latest report on a press conference with the Ministry. Hermione saw the large photo on the cover and nearly orgasmed from the sheer pleasure of watching Dolores Umbridge fall collapse as she was overtaken by the disease she had been claiming was nothing more than a rumor. The Gryffindor Princess could have lived without seeing Dumbitch’spanties flashed in the shot, but the scathing article about the bitch more than made up for it. She had a feeling that the reporter was another one of the Toad’s victims. Karma at its finest. 

“Are you okay, Hermione?” Harry was watching his closest confidant with amused concern. “It looks like you are taking a bit more pleasure from the paper than what’s normal… and healthy.”

She turned to the black haired boy and addressed him with a seriousness only seen when it came to life or death situations. “When I die, Harry, I want to be buried with this photo.”

The boy laughed in agreement. “I want it engraved on my tombstone with the words “Greatest Moment of My Long Life” etched beneath it for all to see.”

Her good mood receded as she thought about the plague spreading across the country. “With this disease spreading, my life may not be as I long as I hope.”

Harry’s demeanor lost all humour. “You won’t get sick, Hermione. The Healers will find a cure long before anyone actually… dies.”

Despite his stubborn persistence that all would be well, Hermione had a strong sense that things would get much worse before they got better. 

By the time the final month of the Gregorian calendar was upon Hogwarts, a cloud of fearful despair hung over the school. If the Daily Prophet and Quibbler were to be believed, the entire magical community had last all good cheer in the face of the holidays with this new and very contagious disease putting their mother’s, wives, and sisters in comas. All of the pure and halfblood girls had caught the disease so far with muggleborns only beginning to suffer as well. Every magical hospital was now brimming with mostly female patients. The female Healers, which made up over half the medical positions, had succumbed to the sickness despite their efforts to stay clean and healthy. Male Healers were scrambling to keep it together, but there were just too few of them to watch over the surplus of females coughing up blood in their hospitals. 

Eventually, the number of infected females occupying the hospitals decreased… because the women began to die. 

Healers were not the only ones whose workload had diminished. Not two days later, an official delegate of the Ministry came rushing into Hogwarts asking for Professor Snape. And Slughorn, as if he were a last minute thought. Days later, the homework for DADA and Potions had been cut entirely as Snape and Slughorn had now joined in a nation wide effort to create a cure for this disease. Within a month, Snape had produced a potion that slowed the progress of the sickness in the body to a near halt. Not a cure, but it would hopefully give the Potioneers time to come up with one.

Then the disease mutated somehow and the women who had been treated with the new potion seemed to die faster. Meanwhile, more females at Hogwarts fell to the illness: Septima Vector, Susan Bones, Irma Pince, Fay Dunbar, Cho Chang. Minerva McGonagall. According to The Daily Prophet, the unknown disease, now deemed Mother Mortis, had now spread to other countries. 

The world of magic was officially in a panic. 

Everywhere females of all ages were hidden away and kept separate from the masses. In Hogwarts, girls were ordered to keep a distance of five feet from one another and wash up regularly. Any signs of the disease was to be reported immediately so that the victim could be whisked away to St. Mungo’s for treatment. Not that it helped.

Slughorn’s holiday party was cancelled as he and Professor Snape delved deeper into their research. The substitutes of the fallen teachers, Ministry supplied, had tried uselessly to calm the student body with promises that the acting Minister had issued countless Master’s to research a cure. Their platitudes often fell on deaf ears as more women fell: Lisa Turpin, Marietta Edgecombe, Amelia and Susan Bones, Padma and Parvati Patil, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown, Romilda Vane, Hannah Abbott, Madam Pomfrey. The list of victims grew daily until Hermione was one of the last females in school, the other being a fellow muggleborn. 

Harry and Ron’s attitudes had taken a one eighty over the course of the last few months and they began to hover over the brain of their trio. And they weren’t the only ones. All of Gryffindor’s males watched her with an intensity that unnerved Hermione. She was so used to flying under the radar, going undetected that this new attention had her ready to crawl out of her own skin. She almost hoped she got sick if it meant not having to endure her friend’s stalking. She couldn’t even go to the bathroom with her two self designated bodyguards standing outside the door. 

There were two weeks left before the holidays and only two muggleborn boys were going home. Everyone else was staying within the walls of Hogwarts. Hermione would have gone back home to see her parents if not for two reasons: Harry and Ron begging her to stay and her parents deciding to go on a ski trip. So Hermione had to stay and endure the mothering of her best friends. 

Hermione was minding her own business, happy to be free of her self-decreed bodyguards, when she bumped into the other girl coming out of the bathroom. Caroline Purvis, a third year Hufflepuff, was a humble, quiet muggleborn female with a social circle dominated by males. Her friends were usually seen hovering over her much like Harry and Ron had been doing for the last month. Hood up and slouched over, Hermione concluded that Caroline was hiding from her friends as well and decided to talk to the girl. 

She approached Caroline silently and patted the girl’s trembling form. “Hi there. Boys driving you mad, too?”

“Please… go away.” Her broken voice was barely a whisper. Hermione wouldn’t have heard the girl if the castle hadn’t been so quiet.

She stepped closer. “Are you okay? If you’re feeling sick, now is not the time to ignore the symptoms. I can walk you to the infirmary.” 

Caroline curled into the wall. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”

“Really? Seems to me like you’re…” Hermione grabbed the girl’s shoulder and tugged, forcing the student to face her. Weakened from the illness ravaging her body and startled from the sudden movement, Caroline coughed black ooze onto Hermione’s crisp white blouse.

Both girls were frozen in horror. Coughing dark phlegm was a symptom of the disease. The illness started with a cough and vertigo, continuing as the mucus got darker and darker until it was completely black. 

Caroline was infected by the plague.

Neither lady heard the group of boys coming around the corner. Hermione didn’t hear the panic that ensued as they noticed the state of Caroline. The Hufflepuff was rushed off to the infirmary with Hermione close behind in Terry Boot’s arms.

Purvis was taken to St. Mungos while Hermione was quarantined in the medical ward. She was there for three weeks before she succumbed to the plague herself.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was not beta'd so sorry for any grammar mistakes.


End file.
